The Pat Riot

George Washington in an outfit that may have passed for masculine next to the foppish British, but would never get him a position as a Boy Scout master nowadays
    This Country Was Founded By Nothing But 100% Praying, Born-Again Christians, But You'd Never Know it From This Secular Rubbish

    As a Real American and a True Christian, Mrs. Bowers has always had a soft spot in her heart for the Creation Story. By that, of course, I mean the legend about how the United States was founded by Anglo-Saxon Christians so whipped into a religious lather that they could barely tear themselves away from praying in public schools 24-7 or drowning witches to write the inerrant Declaration of Independence. As every American knows, the Founding Fathers were all born again Christians and perfect in every respect. True, a few might have beaten their slaves, but they would certainly never sleep with any of them (the outrageous claims of the ungrateful decedents of Thomas Jefferson's domestic help notwithstanding).

    Yes, 1776 was a glorious and Godly time in our now secular and pornographic land! Everyone memorized their Bible and knew their place. Nevertheless, there are aspects of the late 18th century that give me pause. For example, while I am not overjoyed with the connoisseur of cheap humidors currently philandering in the White House, a president who pranced about in powdered curls and silk stockings is hardly something to applaud either. I am, of course, referring to the now-ubiquitous image of George Washington, our first president to be married to someone who looks like Barbara Bush.

    Allow me to state right off the bat that Mrs. Bowers has not been partial to films where men wear wigs ever since being a fan of Sean Connery disconcertingly segued into necrophilia (sometime in the early 90s). Further, it is a well-known fact in my social circle that men with long hair are invariably losers, freaks rock-stars or liars. That is, of course, unless they are born of a virgin, bring people back from the dead and die for my few sins in excruciating pain. So, you can imagine I was not pleased to attend a film filled with men looking like Breck girls and sporting more wigs than a Motown scrapbook.

    Nevertheless, because I am utterly Christ-like in my alarming open-mindedness, I was willing to put aside all of these misgiving about the effeminate male grooming habits of our forefathers (and even suffer though Mel Gibson in a tight pair of trousers) to see the glory and carnage with which this Christian nation was wrought. Furthermore, as a proud member of the National Rifle Association, I was rather looking forward to a rousing tale about ordinary citizens impulsively reaching for loaded weapons and shooting people through the whites of their eyes simply to show their lack of enthusiasm for an ill-considered tax on a popular hot beverage, tea. Truly, every time I have one of my people fill the tank of one of my Bentleys recently, I feel a similar urge to load a musket.

    For the sake of partial honesty, I must confess that I missed whole chunks of The Patriot, as I was forced to take several important tax-deductible international wireless calls during the film. I must say, this task was made no more pleasurable or expedient by the distracting hand gestures by those seated around me. Really, unsaved people are so rude to try to distract me when they know I am in the middle of carrying out the Lord's work. Alas, good manners have evaporated in this secular society. In spite of my calls, I managed to see more of this film than many of the movies I routinely condemn, and I was not pleased with what I saw.

    First of all, lets talk about the casting. A story about the birth of America, and who do they place in the lead? One of those dreadful, uncouth Australians! True, Mel Gibson used to be attractive before his hair receded and his jowls dropped, but if I have to sit through one more movie with either him, surly Russell Crowe or that icy facsimile of a wife Nicole Kidman, I am going to use that cellphone to call the INS.

    Benjamin Martin, NRA founder, in the process of firing warning shots into the stomachs of pesky Indians who didn't understand that our God didn't inspire us to fight for freedom so that we would waste any of it on them.

    In The Patriot, Mel Gibson plays Benjamin Martin, a South Carolina widower. I had been told that the film championed family values, which was music to my ears until I saw the family in question. It was a single parent family! That type of so-called haphazard "parenting" may fly in a Spike Lee film, but is hardly suitable to depict the very era in which we refer when we speak of "Traditional" values! It is a well known fact that when this country was founded, ALL families were Bible-believing and had two parents of dissimilar gender. Between calls, I counted the number of children Mr. Martin had. Seven! Clearly, we are not dealing with Christians here, but, instead, the unruly litter of a pair of Catholic sex maniacs. While I am not about to claim that there were no Catholics in pre-revolutionary America (how else did the Bostonians keep their lovely homes clean?), certainly none of them contributed anything worth making a movie about.

    Though this movie is obviously not about the right kind of people, it is not without its charms and acceptable messages. Mel waves an enormous American flag around during the final battle, which acts as a magnet to retreating soldiers, turning them instantly around in their tracks. This shows the miraculous power God has given the American flag - and why people who burn it should be imprisoned or, God willing, worse for failing to appreciate how free they are. But it is only when one of Mel's family is killed that the film displays truly Biblical values. At that point, the movie becomes less about history and more about our Blessed Lord's favorite Old Testament pastime: revenge.

    The film has glorious, bloody, cartilage-crunching battle scenes but succumbs to secular humanism that is absolutely inappropriate for impressionable viewers (those below 50). For example, there is a romance between Martin's soldier son (truly, God's gift to the eyes, Heath Ledger) and a local harlot (Lisa Brenner) and they are not at all times with a Pastor or any other suitable chaperone. Further, slaves are treated just like real people. In Pre-Civil-War South Carolina no less! Jay Arlen Jones plays a noble slave-turned-soldier. His role seems to have been written by the so-called "politically correct" screenwriter as a suggestion that there is something perhaps wrong with being a slave -- in defiant contravention of the Bible's unwavering position that slavery is actually a rather charming thing. Indeed, a clear-eyed reading of the Old Testament reveals that it is verily an "Owners' Manual" for any slave master -- replete with handy tips and details about who gets to keep the little slave children. Truly, the Lord has thought of everything! Would that Mrs. Bowers could say the same about the director of The Patriot.

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